


No One Mourns the Wicked

by Korderoo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korderoo/pseuds/Korderoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/N: This is a one-shot for Spartan3115, who was the 100th Reviewer for All the Single Ladies who gave the prompt, “I'd like you to write a one shot that is musically inspired or one that involves music in some way.”  This is un-betaed, so all mistakes are down to me.  I hope you’ll enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Mourns the Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time, its characters, settings, etc. I am also deriving no profit from this other than my own satisfaction.

_And Goodness knows_   
_The Wicked's lives are lonely_   
_Goodness knows_   
_The Wicked die alone_   
_It just shows when you're Wicked_   
_You're left only_   
_On your own_

_\- Wicked -_

It had been a month of hinting, then asking, then begging for Henry’s moms to take him to see _Wicked_ in Boston, and his latest operation had still not succeeded.  His friend Paige had seen it when she was in New York with her father and had come home raving about it.  Henry’s love of fairy tales had been completely replaced with an obsession with Oz.  They had watched the movie nearly every day for a month.  Henry’s room was covered in his drawings of munchkins and flying monkeys.

The worst was his relentless questioning of Regina.  He had spotted flying monkeys in an illustration in his fairy tale book and therefore was certain the Wizard of Oz must be real.  The illustration, however, was unaccompanied by a story, so he assumed the Judy Garland classic to be gospel.  He asked her constantly if she really knew the real Dorothy; if she’d ever visited the emerald city; if there were really real ruby slippers.  Regina quickly grew tired of the badgering about the story and told him he should engage his curiosity in researching it further.  Emma recommended that he research it further by watching the other Oz movies.

When the three of them sat down one Friday night to watch _Return to Oz,_ Henry was bouncing in his seat with excitement. 

“Dorothy goes back? I bet they have a party!  I bet they’re so happy to see her!  Maybe they even have a parade in the Emerald City!”

As the movie began, however, and the story was considerably darker than his revered classic, Henry shrank more and more into a ball, clutching his brunette mother’s side.  She tenderly brushed his hair back from his head.  By the time they reached Queen Mombi and she switched out her head, he had completely hidden his face and was trembling.

“Swan, look at your son.  Go turn this off.”

“NoIwanttowatch!” came a muffled cry from beneath her arm.

“Henry, it’s not you.  I’m too scared to watch anymore.”  It was a feeble lie.

At this, Henry pulled away and looked at her skeptically, “You’re afraid?  I don’t believe it.  You’ve seen real stuff worse than that.”

Having no real argument against this, Regina merely sighed and said, “Very well.”

Emma pumped her fist in the air.  “Mombi’s the coolest.”

“Really, dear?  Mombi?  It’s not even her real name.”

Henry gasped, “You know Mombi?!”

“Why don’t we just watch the movie?”

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The following Friday they introduced _The Wiz_.  While not especially impressed with the effects, Henry was fascinated that there was another take on the story.  And he loved the music.  After watching it, his efforts redoubled to convince his mothers to take him to see Wicked.  He started leaving printouts regarding tickets on the kitchen counter.  About three weeks before his birthday, he left a seating chart on the island before he left for school with the seats he would choose for them highlighted hopefully.

“Regina,” said Emma, looking up over the paper at her girlfriend.

“Hmm,” Regina was occupied with finishing Breakfast dishes and did not look up.

“We’re going to have to take him.”

Regina sighed, “I’ve been thinking the same thing.  It’s almost his birthday; I suppose we could make a day of it and really celebrate.”

Emma smiled broadly, “I’d love to take you guys to Boston!  There was a great little Italian restaurant you would love!  And it’s not too long a drive.”

“No, I will look into buying tickets today.”

“Well, if you need guidance as to where to sit…” she trailed off handing Regina the seating chart with a wry grin.

Regina sighed again, “He must have gotten this relentless drive to achieve his ends from you.”

Emma snorted, “Sure.  I’ve been known to curse fairy tale characters to another realm to fulfill my wicked plan.”

Regina glared at her, continuing even as Emma gave her a crooked smile to show she was teasing and wrapped arms around her waist.  “I love you.”

“Mm-hmm.  Well, dear, perhaps a better way to show it than throwing the curse in my face again would be to pick up your clothes from the floor and go to work.  After all, I’m pretty sure you know exactly what I’m capable of.”  She finished with a smirk as Emma scurried off to tidy after herself and shook her head as she looked at Henry’s highlighted seating chart again. 

She was very resistant to the idea of taking Henry to Boston for the show, but it seemed to be his only real birthday wish.  Her lips turned up at the thought that Emma seemed really excited about the idea, too.  There was no way that she could resist something that would make them both happy.  Especially when there were precious few happy memories from Emma’s past that she could share.  She was determined they would both have the time of their life.  She would reserve a suite for them and they could make a whole experience of it.  She may not look forward to the drive or the play, but she would look forward to making memories with the two most important people in her life.

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The entire trip to Boston, Henry rattled off the entire script of The Wizard of Oz and asked, “Do you think they’ll show that?”  Emma and Regina barely spoke at all, merely sharing amused glances in the front seat, their fingers laced together on top of the gear shift.

They checked into their suite before dinner so they could change clothes before attending the theater.  Henry didn’t even object to wearing a tie, insisting that he gel his hair to look truly “dapper.”  Emma had laughed hysterically when he used the word, much to his chagrin.  Regina chucked him on the chin and told him he looked very dapper indeed.  Regina wore a simple but elegant black dress with long sleeves and a skirt that fell just below her knees.  Emma wore a tailored suit and tie, her hair in an intricate braid.  Regina whispered to Emma in a tone that made her knees weak that she looked very dapper as well.

The restaurant that Emma chose was small and out of the way.  It was clearly family-owned and the owner herself came over to give Emma a hug and a kiss on the cheek the moment they walked in the door.  Emma beamed proudly as she introduced her girlfriend and her son to the woman, Margaret, and explained that she had eaten there at least once a week when she lived in town.  Margaret led them to a corner table in the cozy but elegant bistro and they enjoyed the best Italian food Regina had ever experienced in a restaurant.  Granted her exposure to ethnic food was limited in Storybrooke, but this was a really wonderful atmosphere and food.  She reached out to rub Emma’s knee beneath the table, silently expressing her gratitude that Emma had shared such a meaningful place with them.  Emma caught her gaze and smiled softly, acknowledging the significance of the moment.

They had opted to take a taxi to the theater in order to avoid having to park in the packed parking structure.  Henry was sandwiched between his mothers and wiggling in his seat in uncontrollable excitement.  He resumed his monologue from the drive to Boston peppering them with questions about what they might see.  He jumped out when Emma climbed out at the theater and ran ahead, remembering his manners when he reached the door and holding it open for his mothers.  He slipped back into excited little boy mode a moment later, however, waving frantically and shouting “Come on, you guys…come on!”

They chuckled together, walking hand in hand up the steps to their son, Regina handing the tickets to Henry to give to the usher.  He beamed at the important task.  He offered an arm to each of his mothers and escorted them to the door, proudly handing the usher three tickets.  The usher smiled at him and tore the tickets, handing him the stubs and saying, “Right this way, sir.”

Henry led them inside and immediately started gasping over everything he saw.  He pointed out the booth selling programs and other merchandise.  He pointed out the poster hanging on the wall.  He pointed out the cast list posted in the lobby.  He spoke so much and so fast that they were certain he would run out of breath.

When they reached the correct door to enter and the usher led them to their seats, Henry gasped again, “You got the seats?!”  They were in the orchestra section about ten rows back and dead center.  They were exactly the ones he had highlighted. 

“Happy Birthday, Henry,” said Regina as she ruffled his hair.

He beamed and took his seat, engrossed immediately in the playbill.  “Mom, mom!  Look at the cast!  Look, this one was in Law and Order.  Wait, this one was too.  Wait…were they all in Law and Order?”

Emma laughed as she looked and saw what he was talking about, “Yeah, kid.  I guess there’ll be a lot of criminals in tonight’s show.  Or worse…lawyers.”

Regina began to reply but the lights started dimming and Henry hissed “Shh…shhhh.it’s starting!”  With saucer eyes, he literally sat forward on the edge of the seat, his hands wrapped around the armrests in a death grip.  Regina and Emma exchanged a tender smile over his head as the orchestra began the overture. 

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By intermission, Henry was strangely quiet.  He had watched, completely engrossed, the entire first act.  He seemed to be memorizing every word.  His bright smile, however had diminished.  Emma and Regina shared a worried look as he went off to the men’s room alone.

“He doesn’t seem to like it,” said Regina, seeming devastated that her son was disappointed.

“Well, maybe he’s just intense.  Like remember how he was when we watched Forrest Gump and he didn’t speak for like an hour after?  Maybe he’s just processing.”

“Perhaps.  I just wish I knew whether he was enjoying it.  It was so important to him.”

“I know, love, we’ll just…”  Emma’s words immediately dropped off as they watched Henry shuffle back to them.

“Hey kid, all set?  Maybe we should get back to our seats.”

“Yeah.  Ok.”

Emma shrugged at Regina over his shoulder as he shuffled back into the theater, Regina worrying her hands as they walked.

Throughout the second act, Henry continued to watch, wide eyed, but without the bouncing enthusiasm he had displayed before the show.  Emma reached her hand across his seat and rested it on Regina’s shoulder in a silent show of support. 

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The moment the curtain call began and the theater erupted in applause, Henry burst into tears.  The rest of the audience leapt to their feet in a celebratory standing ovation, shouting their praise.  Henry remained in his seat, doubled over and sobbing.

“Henry, what is it?  Emma, I think he’s sick!  Henry, are you ok?  Sweetheart, talk to me, are you in pain?”

Regina immediately knelt next to his seat and tried to figure out what was wrong.  Emma sat by helplessly, her gut twisting at the thought that something was majorly wrong.  Maybe Regina was right and he was sick.  Either way, Emma needed to get him out of there.  She leaned down and said, “I’m gonna pick you up, ok kid?  You’ll tell me if I hurt you?”  He nodded through his tears.

Emma scooped him up and Regina apologetically but firmly shooed people out of the row to let them out as Henry wailed against Emma’s shoulder.  They sped out of the theater and into the lobby before Emma paused saying, “Kid, we have to know, are you sick?  Do we need to take you to the hospital?”

Henry gulped hysterically for air for a moment and then shakily murmured, “N-no.”

Regina, relieved that he was speaking and not apparently in imminent medical danger, smoothed his no longer gelled hair back from his forehead and said “What is it sweetheart, tell us, please.”

At her words, however, his sobbing renewed and he buried his face in Emma’s shoulder again, pulling his head away.  Emma looked at Regina with raised eyebrows, knowing that the rejection would hurt her.  Regina’s face was momentarily a mask of pain before she swallowed hard and said, “Let’s just get him back to the hotel.”  Emma nodded helplessly and hurried for the door.

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Henry cried throughout the ride back to the hotel, his sobs breaking both of his mothers’ hearts.  Emma buckled him in with her and held him in her lap throughout the ride, rocking him gently as Regina rubbed circles on his back.  Neither spoke, both felt it would be better to allow him to come to it in his own time.

They got him up to the suite, which had two bedrooms and a living room area.  Regina gave him his pajamas and he went to go change.

“What the heck happened?” demanded Emma, pacing frantically.

“I’m not sure.  Perhaps once he’s in his pajamas we should try to talk again.  Will you get him a glass of water?”

“Water?”

“Yes, it helps him calm down.  Not too cold though, he tends to gulp when he’s upset.”

Emma walked to the bathroom to fill a cup, feeling once again that she was an inadequate parent when faced with a situation more complicated than fun time.  She brought the glass back into the living room and handed it to Regina.

Regina took it to his door and knocked tentatively, giving a nervous glance over her shoulder at Emma.  “Henry…sweetheart…Emma got you a glass of water.  Could you come out, please?”

For a long moment there was only silence on the other side of the door.  Then it opened to reveal a red-faced and teary but no-longer crying face.  Henry wiped his cheeks as he entered and sat himself on the chair at the small table.  Regina sat across from him and Emma stayed on the couch across the room. 

“Now sweetheart, can you tell us what’s going on?”

“Mom…I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Oh Henry, for what?  You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I was so horrible to you.  And I thought you were the Evil Queen.  I mean, I know you were. But I never thought about…I mean, you’re just like Elphaba.”

With his words, Emma caught on.  Regina still looked puzzled.

“Like Elphaba?  Henry what do you mean?”

“You’re just like her!  You want to be good but people said stuff about how she was wicked and everyone just believed it.”

Finally cottoning on, Regina visibly tensed, closing her eyes tightly before taking a breath and saying, “Henry, it means so much to hear you say that.  But I told you no more lies.  So you have to know by now…that I did some terrible things.  I hurt people.  And I’m sorry that I did, I’m trying to be better.”

He reached out and grasped her hand, catching her eye.  “You are better, Mom.  I just…in all that time I never thought to ask about your story.  It’s just like when in the Wizard of Oz they made the witch look all mean and really it was Glinda.”

“Oh sweetheart, this is just another side of that story, but it’s skewed a bit in the other direction.  Trust me, ok? 

He wrinkled his nose when he was confused, a trait he definitely inherited from his blonde mother.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, the truth is somewhere in the middle.  Elphaba thought she was doing good things and sometimes our best intentions lead us in dark directions.”

“Oh.”

“But what is the same about us is that the most popular stories about us make us seem like pure evil, rather than real people.”

“Well…do you think?  I mean sometime could you please tell me your story?”

She held her breath for a long moment as she contemplated his question.  She felt fear coiling in her belly at the thought of talking about her past to her son, one of two people’s opinions she really cared about.  She looked over at Emma, who looked at her with complete understanding of the difficulty she faced, but gave her a smile full of love and inclined her head.

Regina returned her attention to Henry, exhaled in a rush and nodded.  “Ok Henry.  I will share some stories with you.  But not tonight,” she pressed her palm to his cheek, “It’s been a long night for all of us, why don’t we all get some sleep?”

He nodded, yawning.  He stood up and sleepily climbed in her lap, hugging her tight.  Emma’s heart ached at the sight and she decided she could go and hug them both now.  She hadn’t wanted to interrupt their moment but she couldn’t hold back any longer.  She went and knelt next to the chair, wrapping her arms around both.  Regina took one arm from Henry’s back and moved it to wrap around her girlfriend, dropping a kiss to Henry’s head and then Emma’s.

After a moment, Emma stood and offered to take Henry to his bed, but Regina shook her head and stood up, holding on to Henry, who had wrapped his arms around her neck and held on.  She carried him to his bed and laid him down.  She brushed the hair back from his forehead and said, “Was it…a terrible birthday, Henry?”  Feeling uncomfortably vulnerable, she bit her lip and kept her eyes focused on her hand smoothing Henry’s comforter. 

He put his hand over hers and said, “It was a great birthday, Mom.  I love you.”

The varied emotions of the evening pressed Regina to release one sob before she placed her lips on Henry’s forehead and sat back up, wiping her eyes.  “I love you, too.”  She stood and tucked him in before going back to the other room where Emma was waiting.

“Is he ok?”

Regina nodded, crossing her arms over her torso, holding herself.  “He’s going to sleep.”

Emma nodded and walked over, wrapping her arms around Regina’s back and placing a kiss to her temple.  “Are you ok?”

Regina gave a shuddering sigh and laid her head on Emma’s shoulder.  “I’ll be fine.  He thought of me as a villain for so long when I wanted to be his hero.  And now he thinks I’m…but there’s still the other part of me, too.”

“There’s another side to all of us.  Henry was devastated when he learned that I had lied to him about his father.  But that’s the biggest fairy tale fallacy of them all. People aren’t good or evil.  We all are both.”

“Oh Emma.  I don’t know.  Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve this happy ending with Henry and with you.  I fell so far into darkness the light of you two in my life has been blinding.  But I have to face that maybe this, right now, is the fairy tale and those don’t usually end well for the Evil Queen.”

Emma lifted her chin and kissed her.  Without words was how Emma expressed herself best.  She kept the kiss slow and tender, full of meaning.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Regina’s eyes still closed, her lips slightly parted.  “Well if this is a fairy tale - then I’m the savior, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get the girl.”

Regina smiled and rested her forehead against Emma’s, still keeping her eyes closed.  “Is that so, Sheriff?”

“It is.”

Any argument Regina might have made was quickly swallowed and forgotten as Emma pulled her closer and kissed her again.  She expressed herself without words for the rest of the night.

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One month later, Regina rolled over in bed, disappointed when her fingers felt cold sheets instead of warm Emma.  She growled her displeasure and then pouted.  She rolled over to look at the clock and see what time it was just as the door opened, and two matching mischievous grins peeked around the corner.  She smiled broadly at her family and said sternly “What did you do?”  It was a commonly heard refrain in their house since Emma had moved in a few weeks ago.

Henry came through the door first, holding a large bouquet of flowers, a beaming smile on his face.  Behind him, Emma was carrying a tray with an egg-white omelet, whole wheat toast, fruit, and heavenly smelling coffee. 

“What’s all this?”

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Emma and Henry chanted together.

Regina’s eyes widened.  Henry had made her cards in the past but never anything this elaborate.  She looked to Emma, who beamed at her and said, “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving.  Thank you.  But this is so…you two didn’t have to do all this.”

“We wanted to, Mom.  We wanted to do something really special.  And there’s one more thing.”

“One more thing?”

“Yeah, hold on.” He ran out of the room, leaving his mothers together.

“Emma, you really didn’t have to do this.  Besides, you’re his mother, too.  This should be for both of us.”

Emma shrugged, but took a piece of toast, “Well, first off, I had him, I love him, but you’re his mom.  You’re amazing with him, Regina.  And I wanted to do something special for you because you took care of him when I couldn’t.”

Regina stroked Emma’s cheek before wrapping her hand around the back of Emma’s neck and pulling her in for a kiss.  She opened her eyes and whispered against Emma’s lips, “Thank you.”

Emma grinned broadly, “Thank you,” and kissed her again.

“Ok, enough kissing stuff.  Here Mom, this is for you.”  He handed her a heavy brightly wrapped present.  She looked to Emma, who gave a knowing smile and nodded.  She pulled apart the ribbon and opened the paper, finding a leather-bound book inside.  She opened the cover to find that it was a hand written and illustrated book that Henry made. 

Her heart jumped into her throat as she realized he had written her story.  They had spent a few hours every weekend since _Wicked_ talking about Regina’s childhood.  He had portrayed her as a girl joyfully riding a horse.  He had portrayed her even younger, painting pictures that her mother destroyed, playing with another little girl before her mother had forbidden her to play with villagers, and listening to stories on her father’s knee.  She lifted a hand to her mouth to prevent her sob from escaping as she turned the pages and saw her life before her. 

When she turned to the back of the book it showed her life with Henry, making cookies together and playing Monopoly.  It showed her teaching him to ride a bike and bandaging his wound when he fell off and skinned his knee.  It showed her falling in love with Emma and on the last page, a picture of the three of them together with the caption underneath reading,

_Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better?_

_(I do believe I have been changed for the better)_

_And because I knew you,_

_I have been changed for good._


End file.
